


Burned Macaroni

by BananaSpice (OKFandom)



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Can be read as Clack, Fluff, Platonic Male/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:55:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6317317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKFandom/pseuds/BananaSpice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clay tries to teach Jack how to make dinner. Platonic Clay/Jack moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burned Macaroni

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble gift/request/prize for agenderjackspicer on tumblr for completing my "Jack with Bangs" challenge in the time limit provided.

"No no no, now ya dun gone an' burned it all." Clay scolded the lanky robotics genius as he swiped the pan, contents barely identifiable as macaroni and cheese, off the stove, the noodles all charred to the bottom.

An exasperated groan escaped the genius in question and Jack slammed his mixing spoon down. “This is stupid!” A pale hand flailed in the general direction of the kitchen sink where the latest food catastrophe was being added to the pile of charred and soaking pans. The other monks were definitely going to be pissed at him over this. 

Clay gave an exasperated sigh deciding maybe it was time for a break. If not for the fact Jack looked like he was about ready to build a bot to blow up the kitchen, then at least because they were now officially out of cooking pans for Jack to ruin. “Alrigh’ alrigh’, le’s just take a break and calm down ‘ere.” Clay placed a strong hand on Jack's back forcing the petite genius to move towards the kitchen table and into the nearest chair.

Jack flopped onto the provided furniture with a grunt and extended sigh. “Can’t we just order take-out or something? Surely you monks could afford the extra calories.”

“Sure, but not the extra money.” Clay gave a snort and rolled his eyes, unable to help smiling at his pathetic frenemy. How Jack had lasted as long as he had completely on his own, none of the monks could understand, but they never pushed to know. Wasn’t any of their business really. Still, these truce nights were as good for Jack as they were entertaining for the young Xiaolin monks. Once a month, unless interrupted by a Shen Gong Wu activation, Jack would either come to the temple willingly, or be dragged here for some good ole fashioned social interaction. And occasionally be taught a skill or two the monks hoped would keep the young man going during the times he was flat broke and visibly dragging during fights.

This month it was Clay’s turn to teach the technical genius something and the cowboy was quickly realizing he’d chosen perhaps the hardest subject of all. Cooking. Oddly enough, Jack was amazing at baking. Cookies, cakes, desserts of all kinds the goth roboticist could master on the first try. But bring real food into the equation? Tired blue eyes cast a wary look at the pile of pans he’d no doubt be forced to clean later. Yeah this wasn’t going well at all. 

“Just admit it cowpoke. I can't cook” Jack stated the cold hard fact, leaning over to poke Clay in the forehead as he did so.

Clay swatted away the offending finger gently, well aware of how easy it was for Jack to get injured. “Well not with that attitude, Spicer. Ya should know by now, when ya fall off yer saddle ya just get right back up on the horse.”

“And I was SO hoping to escape without more of your down home sayings today.” The genius snatched his hand back to his chest and crossed his arms pretending he’d meant to do that all along. “Tch, guess that's as likely as Omi speaking proper slang.” 

“Ain't that the truest thing ya ever said.” Clay quipped back grinning. “Welp! If’n yer ready t’ start washing dishes we kin try again.”

Jack eyed the piles of charred pans and cringed at the task before them. “How about, let's not and say we did.” 

“Aww, where's yer sense of workers pride?” 

The reply was accompanied by the sound of the faucet turning on and Jack gave an internal sigh. “I think I left it in my other pants.” He snarked, but still dragged himself out of his seat knowing there was no point trying to fight the cowboy on this. He'd just end up having to do it anyway. “I'll make you a deal. YOU make dinner, and I'll cook the dessert. Fair enough? Or would you like to test out the fire resistance of the building again?” 

Clay winced and eyed where a few light scorch marks had reached the ceiling. “Ya drive a hard bargain Spicer” At least dinner would be edible.


End file.
